Kiss
by Kylara Kitsune
Summary: After the war, Charlie and Hermione have a heart to heart conversation. An unusual request changes their relationship forever.


**AN: Prompt 13 from the 30 breathtakes list - "Tangled in the sheets". I'm just playing, I'll put them back when I'm done.**

The sheets are tangled round her body, showing off just about every curve she has, revealing far more than she'd be happy with, if she were awake. As it happens, she's still sleeping, curled up adorably in my bed. She looks so young, like this, that I wonder how on earth the two of us ended up like this, when you consider the age gap between us. She's twenty-four, but could pass for eighteen. The brightest witch of a generation, the heroine of the wizarding world. She could have anyone, but she chose me. I'm thirty-one, a scarred dragon-tamer with red hair and a temper to match. Yes, you guessed it. I'm Charlie Weasley, and she's Hermione Granger - voted Witch Weekly's most unlikely couple of the year, for the second year running.

She was my little brother's ex-girlfriend, the bushy-haired know-it-all that I started to see in a different light after the war, when she patched up my cuts without so much as a grimace at their severity. Even my own mother hadn't been able to look at them without flinching.

"Doesn't it bother you, Hermione?" She looked me in the face then, her dark brown eyes meeting mine without hesitation.

"Doesn't what bother me? The war? The injuries? I can't let it bother me, Charlie, people are relying on me."

That night, I found her sitting in the garden at the Burrow, on the charred remains of a tree stump, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. I sat next to her, handed her a tissue. She wiped her eyes, then threw her arms around me and sobbed even harder. I sat next to her, holding her and stroking her hair, like I used to do with Ginny when one of the others upset her. Gradually, the sobs slowed, the shaking stopped, and she was able to look up at me with those big, dark eyes of hers, glistening with moisture in the moonlight.

"Sorry about this, Charlie. I didn't mean to cry all over you."

"Bound to happen sometime, Hermione. The crying, that is, not... Oh, damn it, you know what I mean, don't you?" I hadn't stumbled over my words in front of a woman for years, especially not one so young. My brothers joke about it, but what they say is true - dragon keepers have never really had problems getting women; it kind of goes with the territory. The girls all want to be the one to "tame" you, the one that makes you give it up for a sensible desk job. I've had my share of fun, but no-one has ever come close to getting me to settle down. Hermione though, without even trying, was bringing out the protective side of me, making me want to look after her, take care of her, show her that the world doesn't always have to be like this. Then again, it's all she's ever really known - Voldemort reappeared when she was in her first year at Hogwarts, so she's never known what it's like to be a witch in a world at peace.

She was quiet for a while, looking out over the ruins of what was once Mum and Dad's garden. When she spoke, her voice was so soft I barely heard it, and what she said shocked me. "Know what really upsets me, for some strange reason? I could have died in this war, and I'd have died without ever knowing what love was. I would never have known what it's like to trust someone so completely you'd let them do anything to you, without questioning it. I'd never have known what it's like to... to make love. And that, out of everything, bothers me the most."

"I'm surprised, Hermione. I have to admit, I thought you and Ron would have..."

She shook her head, almost but not quite laughing. "Ron barely noticed I was female. Besides, he and Lavender were all over each other, just before we left to hunt for the Horcruxes."

"I hadn't known that."

"You were in Romania. I didn't expect you to know."

Silence again, but it was companionable. Neither of us felt as though we had to speak, it was enough to just be there for one another. Even at the time, I thought it was a little odd that she'd turn to me for comfort - I must have been the Weasley she knew least about. Perhaps that was why. I hadn't been around enough to feel like an older brother to her.

"Charlie?"

"Yes, Hermione?"

"This might sound strange... ok, it will sound strange... and don't feel you have to... but..."

"Spit it out, woman, we haven't got all night." It wasn't normal for Hermione to struggle with her words, any more than it was for me. She grinned as I spoke, taking the words exactly as I'd meant them. I'd upset a lot of people with comments like that - it was just what I did, I never intended to offend anybody.

"Will you kiss me?"

Well, how could I refuse a request like that? Of course I kissed her. She was tentative, uncertain. It was as though she'd never really been kissed before, and possibly she hadn't.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

That kiss was the start of something I could never have predicted. Then again, I always was completely useless at Divination. Knowing Hermione like I do, she may have just wanted me to teach her about sex, but perhaps the emotions got in the way, and she ended up falling in love anyway. For once, she allowed herself to be ruled by her heart, rather than her head, and I'm so glad she did. That was two years ago, and we're still together now. We've just bought a place together, near the dragon reserve in Romania, so that I didn't have to give up a job I love. She's a potions researcher, so it doesn't matter to her where she lives - potions can be brewed anywhere in the world. Mum was hoping I'd move back to England, that we'd get married and produce some redhaired grandkids for her, but we're happy just the way we are.


End file.
